


and the sail needs the wind

by swingsetjunkie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:41:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5585746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swingsetjunkie/pseuds/swingsetjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An attack on the Jedi Temple changes the course of history when it forces the Order's strongest members into hiding. The war begins early, too early, and they are woefully unprepared. Pre-AOTC AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the sail needs the wind

**Author's Note:**

> gonna preface this with an fyi. my knowledge of star wars lore relating to things beyond a few books and the movies is pretty subpar overall- i'm going to be bending a lot of canon and a few facts/dates to suit this, but that's what's great about AUs, right? right. any input or whatever on this is super appreciated tbh. just know that this takes place early 22 BBY, directly before AOTC.
> 
> title's from sanders bohlke's search & destroy. i dunno, man, i dunno.

Anakin’s never been skilled in meditation. Serenity eludes his grasp, emptiness impossible- he cannot calm his mind, cannot soothe the ebb and flow of his emotions. The most important thing, Obi-Wan tells him quietly as he struggles, is the breathing, the in and out of oxygen meant to help him focus. Focus on each emotion in the forefront of his mind, dismiss them, open himself to the Force- but his emotions have always been turbulent. When he manages to grasp and wrestle away his fear, anger surfaces, which in turn births fear anew.

Jedi are not supposed to feel anger, only serenity. Jedi release their suffering, embrace the Force.

But Anakin is nineteen, and young, though hardly inexperienced; clarity is a waiting game, and he is not yet patient enough to win.

Anakin heaves out a breath as he shifts his position, re-crossing his legs in front of him; he turns his mind inward, mental fingers grasping at the slippery surface of his regret. Regret is the easiest emotion for him to release, aside from irritation; next he focuses on his insecurity, his fear of failure, his desire for control.

He can feel Obi-Wan observing him quietly through the Force, the bond in the back of his psyche humming slightly. Obi-Wan is serene, almost empty of emotion- only a small flicker of reassurance leaks through the mental link, as fleeting and soft as the hum of Obi-Wan’s physical presence beside him. Anakin feels a stab of envy that he quashes mercilessly.

Serenity comes easy to his Master, a man entrenched in everything it means to be a Jedi; Anakin can feel Obi-Wan’s mind slow and clear, the Force weaving through the strands of his being easily despite the worries that had previously been plaguing the older man’s mind- the war rages on outside the Temple, a ceaseless and all-consuming worry.

Some twenty-odd minutes later, Anakin stands. He knows when to give in, when to direct his energies elsewhere, despite the tiny surge of disappointment that he has failed again.

He rests a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder as he crosses the room, bond flickering as he reaches for his Master’s attention. Obi-Wan focuses on him slowly, mind dredging up from the tide of the Force; only when Anakin is sure he will be understood does he speak.

 _I can’t focus,_ he imparts, mind-voice barely above a whisper. _With your permission, I would go to the dojo and try to find some clarity there._

Anakin has always been better at clearing his mind when his body does something else. Obi-Wan had been the one to originally instruct him in the ways of moving meditation, though it was a practice most Jedi did not indulge in once they were able to meditate in stillness.

 _Don’t get into trouble,_ Obi-Wan responds, and Anakin grins as he leaves their shared quarters, boots moving soundlessly over the Temple floor. The training rooms are not far from the rooms he and Obi-Wan share, and he manages to avoid running into anyone as he makes his way there. He can feel himself relaxing by degrees as he enters the large area dedicated to the practice of the Forms.

Anakin moves through the motions of the Fifth Form, practice blade in hand; it’s his favorite, and thus his preferred warm-up as he begins to move his way through the rudimentary basics of the First and Second Forms. The Third is easier for him than the first two, given that Obi-Wan beats it into him every time they spar. His Master is perfection in motion when he goes through the tight forms of Soresu. Anakin is much less graceful as he moves through the blocks, steps, and controlled offense of the Third Form, and the transition between the Third and the Fourth has him inelegantly pivoting from one foot to the other to keep his rhythm. He’s in the middle of a particularly complicated aerial strike when he feels a disturbance in the Force- the only warning he has before everything explodes in heat and flames around him.

\---

Obi-Wan is so deeply entrenched in meditation that he doesn’t stir when he feels the Temple shake around him; it is only the flare of agony through the bond he shares with Anakin that pierces the emptiness inside of his mind, sending him hobbling to his feet in shock. _Anakin!_

Only fire responds.

Heart dropping like a stone, Obi-Wan runs.

He calls again to Anakin as he sprints towards what looks to be an inferno. The training halls are collapsing under their own weight, the floor giving in where something has destroyed the supports. Other Jedi are scrambling in and out of the blaze, dragging out bodies both dead and alive from the quickly-collapsing rooms. Obi-Wan can feel the brightness of Anakin’s connection to the Force still inside the blaze, and does not hesitate before leaping into the fire.

All he can see is debris and smoke. _Anakin!_

An answering groan resonates through their bond, allowing Obi-Wan to pinpoint his apprentice’s location- collapsed against a far wall, training blade still in hand. His clothes and skin are singed from the fire, but nothing looks quite so serious to prevent him from moving.

Nothing, that is, until Obi-Wan pulls him to his feet and Anakin nearly collapses, shouting with pain, hands flying to clutch at his right leg. _Broken,_ Anakin moans, _my leg is broken._

It is with no hesitation that Obi-Wan hoists his apprentice across his shoulders, balancing the slightly taller young man as he makes for the exit; Anakin swallows a scream of pain as his leg is jostled, hands tightening into fists as he grips Obi-Wan’s tunic. _We’ve been attacked,_ Obi-Wan realizes as he races down one of the rapidly-collapsing hallways. _Somehow we’ve been attacked._

His next thought is immediately a question of _who_ would attack the Jedi Temple, but he pushes it from his mind, instead focusing on dodging the falling stone from the hallway above as he sprints, the Force working through his muscles to make his movements sharper, faster. He manages to outrun the blaze and jump the gap between the collapsing rooms and the rest of the Temple; his feet barely touch the floor before he is running for a medic, handing Anakin over like he is twelve again, injured in some stupid prank or mission gone awry.

 _I must go, Anakin,_ Obi-Wan says desperately through their bond, turning back to the blaze.

 _Go,_ Anakin says from where the medic is setting his leg without anesthetic, the medication already triaged to more life-threatening injuries. _Be careful._

Obi-Wan feels Anakin’s distress and fear as he runs back to the fire and sets it aside, the Force bringing clarity and a focus of thought. He can feel other Jedi still running into the rapidly-collapsing part of the Temple, and joins the ranks of those who fight to keep the building intact using the Force; he stands beside Master Yoda, arms outstretched to the shaking and shattering stone.

\---

Clamor rules the Council. Voices argue back and forth, overlapping and heated; many do not wish to believe that they have been attacked, while still others push for a pursuit of the massive warship that skipped into hyperdrive after firing several long-range missiles at the Jedi Temple from Coruscant’s orbit. Obi-Wan is among the few Jedi Knights allowed to sit the meeting; the rest of the surviving Jedi are tending to the injured, deep below the catacombs of the Temple where they all now reside.

Eventually, one voice rises above the rest, calling for quiet.

“An attack, this is,” Master Yoda says as the Council falls silent, “carefully chosen, our response must be.” The ancient Master leans heavily against his gimer staff, robes still streaked with ash.

“If this indeed was an attack, should we not pursue our attacker?” one of the Knights asks, and Obi-Wan recognizes Quinlan Vos.

“The warship had no visible identification that we can find,” Mace Windu responds, arms crossed in front of his chest. “We should proceed with caution. Another attack could come anytime, and though we are aware of the threat now, we do not know where the threat originates from. The Senate has no answers for us and has its hands tied dealing with this new Separatist order. In this, we are alone. Indeed, it may even have been Separatists that attacked the Temple, but we do not have answers now,” he continues, eyes hooded.

“With caution, we will proceed. Sent into hiding, some of you will be, in case the of it this is not,” Master Yoda intones to interspersed shouts of shock and denial. Yoda waits for the Council and Knights to quiet before continuing, face serene. “Willing to risk the remains of the Jedi, we are not. Into hiding, those with padawans will go. Willing to risk younglings we are not.”

Obi-Wan tenses, brow furrowing. Surely the Council did not mean to send even he and Anakin into hiding, not with his apprentice so close to being Knighted himself-

“Given to you, your assignments will be. Even in hiding, there is work to be done- find this attacker, we must,” Yoda continues, “No exceptions, there will be. If a padawan you have, into obscurity you must go. When the time is right, emerge we will- but only once the danger has been identified.”

Windu shifts, eyes scanning over the crowd of Knights before he speaks. “Messages will be sent to your comms with coordinates and transport times an hour before you are slated to leave. The evacuation must be covert- we cannot risk another attack simply because our enemy has realized that we are retreating. Evacuations will start tonight and end when the Temple has been emptied. Be prepared to leave at any moment.”

With that, the Council is adjourned, and the Knights file out of the room, the low murmurs of discontent and worry dying swiftly as the Jedi leave. Obi-Wan follows the crowd, mind racing.

An attack by Separatists? To what end? The injury and casualty list from the attack is still being recorded, too many Jedi missing or presumed dead to create a complete version. There has been no time to grieve and let go of those lost in the blaze that had taken out a quarter of the Jedi Temple and the collapse that had ruined most of what remained; they are indeed lucky that the underground catacombs were spared the destruction.

 _Master,_ Anakin’s voice rings clear in Obi-Wan’s mind, echoing across their bond with a slight twinge of worry and fear, _what should we do?_

_What we are ordered to._

\---

Anakin’s leg is almost completely healed when the message for them to evacuate arrives. It is almost two days after the attack, and though no other strike has been forthcoming, no information on the attackers has been found, either. Obi-Wan has heard whispers, of course, and has reported to the Council several times after performing a sweep of the Holonet. Anakin has been antsy, reluctant to do anything but argue against the evacuation, stating his age and his progress in training as reasons why they shouldn’t have to leave.

They do anyway, boarding a ship that they will pilot to  Adumar. Their disguises are simple, exiled mercenaries fleeing to a place where loyalty to the Republic is nonexistent. Adumar is not a Separatist planet, merely isolated and settled by exiles; they will be relatively safe there, Obi-Wan knows, though he dislikes the idea of being so far from the Order.

Anakin, of course, is much less content with their evacuation.

“They’re sending us to some backwater planet, Master, when we _should_ be here, trying to figure out the cause of the attack,” he blusters, settling into the co-pilot’s seat next to Obi-Wan. The older Jedi breathes deeply before responding, buckling himself into the pilot’s seat.

“We will do as we are ordered by the Council, Anakin. Right now our focus should be on our disguises. What is our role?”

Anakin frowns, but answers promptly, “Mercenaries fleeing the Republic. A job went south and we ended up angering some Senator enough that we decided to flee to a planet where Republic influence is not so powerful,” he pauses, flipping a few switches as they prepare to take off, then continues, “though I don’t necessarily see how our cover is going to work if we stay in the cities.”

Obi-Wan smiles, pulling the ship out of the nondescript landing bay that the Jedi Order had requisitioned after the attack; once clear of the planet, they can jump into hyperspace and reach Adumar in good time. “The Council has provided us with enough credits and druggats to lease a homestead in a less-populated area and purchase supplies to last for a few months. The planet is temperate, the cities heavily-populated; however, there are still regions that are agriculturally-based and expanses of wilderness. We will stay in the capital city of Cartann until we can find something closer to the countryside.

Anakin nods his assent, though his frown doesn’t ease; Obi-Wan, used to his padawan’s moods, simply focuses on flying. Upon exiting the orbit of Coruscant, Anakin powers up the hyperdrive and they jump into hyperspace.

Anakin steals a look at his Master as they fly through the shocking blue of hyperspace. Obi-Wan’s expression and presence through their bond is calm and clear, a slight breeze over a still lake; he wishes that he could calm his emotions the same way. Outrage at the attack still thrums through his veins, hot and heady, as well as frustration at their retreat and disappointment in the Order. He hates this, running away, and though he knows that it is perhaps necessary and for their own good, he rages against the idea.

Obi-Wan reaches across their bond as Anakin broods, sending empathy and calmness in waves; he knows how the events leading up to this moment have rankled his apprentice, pulling the already-tumultuous young man’s emotions into a veritable maelstrom. _Patience, my young padawan. The Force works in mysterious ways- and I have faith in the Council. This is the right thing to do._

The flight is a relatively long one; despite the speed of hyperspace, Adumar is nearly as far from Coruscant as Ilum is, with less acceptable routes of approach. They have to drop out of hyperspace twice to change routes, the jarring blue giving way to the deep dark of empty space. While Obi-Wan handles this, Anakin goes over what he and his Master know about the planet, outlining the facts quietly through their bond. They have done this so many times before, briefed each other on specifics while the other pilots, switching back and forth as Obi-Wan desired. His Master hates flying, perhaps more than anything else- he leaves that to the droids and Anakin, but on important missions, it gave him comfort to be behind the controls (Anakin can feel this through the small trickle of emotion that Obi-Wan allows through their bond, relief almost sugary-sweet against Obi-Wan's usual composure). On this particular occasion, Anakin's presence as co-pilot has negated the need for an astromech, though Anakin finds himself missing Artoo rather desperately.

The last time they drop out of hyperspace, it's in Adumar's orbit. 

Adumar is colder than Coruscant, and Anakin hates it. It's definitely smaller, though the structure of Catann City is familiar- buildings soar to impossible heights, stacked on top of each other until no natural light hits the lowest levels. Cables run across and between skylanes, leaving just enough space in between for a starfighter or a small freighter to navigate. Obi-Wan pulls their fighter into one of the many docks that litter the skyline, the berth already paid for and reserved. The Order has prepared almost everything for them- they have a contact that they are to meet in a few hours, an Adumari man who could be plied with credits to part with his property on the outskirts of Catann. In the meantime, they rent a skycar and cruise, their only real method of laying low.

Anakin huddles himself into the seat next to Obi-Wan, expression in real danger of breaking into a pout. Obi-Wan should really know better than to address Anakin when he's like this- nearly ten years raising the young man has given him perhaps the most innate knowledge one can obtain about Anakin Skywalker- but he throws him a bone anyway, lips pursing as he fights a smile. "A bit colder than Coruscant, is it not? Winter here lasts slightly longer, and the mountains to the far west- I don't think you can see them from here- create a rain shadow over this part of the world. It's far more arid here, I think, than where we will be going," he murmurs, deftly taking the skycar into a higher lane to avoid a starfighter.

"I know how rain shadows work, Master," is Anakin's only response, and he's most definitely pouting now.

Obi-Wan sighs.

"If this contact works out as promised, you'll be free to brood as much as you would like, my young padawan, but until we have lodgings secured and our relative safety assured, do try to resist. It makes me...twitchy."

Anakin swivels his head to focus the full force of his pout on Obi-Wan, blue eyes bright against his star-tanned complexion; through their bond, Anakin sends a sense of disdain and frustration so obviously fabricated that Obi-Wan almost, almost smiles in response, but manages to keep control over himself. 

"Twitchy, Master?"

"Twitchy, Anakin."

Anakin smiles.


End file.
